This Dream
by ssoko
Summary: Based on Heart's song: This Dreams. He dream every night he live another live... Complete.
1. The dream and Loneliness

**Summary**: Every night when he closed his eyes he lived another live, a wild and free life that he yearns to live for ever…

**Author note:** I know that my English is more than bad with all those typos and grammar errors so I apologize for what you would find. But the story is good (my friend told me… and I believe them). So read and review please… no matter if your comment is good or bad.

**Typical declaration**: I don't own any of the characters, story, and series of Tarzan. Edgar Rice Burroughs and WB created them. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. (At last that is what I hope).

**This Dream**

**Chapter 1**

The harmonic melody overflowed through the iron's room while the well-known tunes pierced his ears. The female sweet voice intoned the lyrics.

_These dreams go on when I close my eyes_ _  
Every second of the night I live another life  
These dreams that sleep when it's cold outside  
Every moment I'm awake the further I'm away _

How could a simple song describe his feelings so well. He understood the meaning of the song. Maybe it was written for him. He leaned his blond mane on the top of the seat closing his eyes as the melody vanished into his mind.

Quickly he opened it again. Like every night the green landscape, loaded with vivid colors and wild sounds, flooded his blue eyes. Slowly the brightness of his pupils was recovering its vitality washing away the sadness that usually lived inside them. A wide smile was installed on his face once again. He inhaled profusely forcing the pure and unpolluted air to fill his lungs.

He stretched his arms parallelly the ground while the breeze caressed shamelessly each part of his muscular, tan and nearly naked body. He was wearing only a loincloth.

He was fifty feet high, his legs entangled with the green bush where he was seated and the branch was dancing with the wind, but he felt secure. It was a sensation he couldn't explain. It was his place, his home. He belonged here.

Wild life distant sounds mixed with the cheerful childish laughter curled down his ears. From his position he could sight this three little devils playing on the riverside under the alert-careful gaze of their mother. His chest broadened proudly; they were his children, two auburn boys and one blond girl.

His smile grew wide while his eyes glided on their mother tempting curves. She was his mate, his lover. He sighed loudly. He loved to coil her auburn locks round his fingers, to smell her natural fragrance telling him she was ready for him just with a simple touch. His body reacted while his tongue licked his lower lip remembering the sensation of her smooth and soft skin under his hands. She was an endless source of pleasure where he never got tired of drinking. "Jane…" he whispered. How can such little name create so many feelings inside him?

That wasn't a perfect live, but it was very close to what he always wanted.

"Mr. Clayton" a feminine voice whispered. He tossed nervously on his seat. "Mr. Clayton." She insisted and reluctantly he opened his eyes. The metallic walls of the plane had replaced the beautiful green grove. He puffed angrily. "We had arrived sir…" He found the stewardess's smile a grotesque forced grimace.

"Thanks." He muttered but his face showed that he was lying. How could he ever thank this frustrating feeling? Frustration was all he was able to feel, frustration and irritation. Once again he woke up into this cold, distant and empty civilized world.

He made himself comfortable on the seat of the jet that transported him to New York City. On the wooden desk rested the paper he should sign. He looked at it. It wasn't his pleasure to go back to Greystoke Industries. "I have to thank you appropriately for that Kathleen…" he hissed. There was not way to avoid the formal procedure. But he didn't touch the paper.

All he wanted was to return to England, to his refuge. It was near ten years that he didn't see the American's sky. "I really hope that the funeral has ended before I arrive." He thought loud.

He had hardly exchanged some words with his aunt Kathleen, his father young sister, which forced him to return.

Tiredly he looked through the window. The machine had landed on the JFK international airport. '_I want to run away_' but he walked to the front door. The people's noise warned him about the press stalking outside. '_It's logic. The vultures are never far from the cadavers_…' His uncle was a famous cadaver right now. His demise was a powerful magnet for those kinds of people. His surprising and inexplicable death attracted them as the light to insects. '_Ok_.' He stepped ahead, '_if you face the vultures once and for all, you will be able to run ways from here sooner_.'

Song: This Dream performed by Heart. (Hearing this beautiful song this story came into my mind... I hope you like it. Just tell me what you think.)

Chapter 2

Jane's chocolate eyes gazed at her distressed man while her fingers caressed his powerful torso trying to comfort him. He was tense breathing nervously. "This nightmare again…" she didn't need to ask his face showed clearly his concern. "Don't worry, I'm here..." She whispered playing with the curls of his chest. She couldn't help but worried every time she saw him that way.

"Hold me tight." He implored and she slipped her arms around his waist pulling both closer.

"I'm here, with you." She said squeezing him tight while she spread a line of sensual hot kisses along his neck then she moved to his jaw.

He sighed loudly. All he needed was the contact with her flesh, her heat, her lips on his skin, all of her. Anxious he searched her mouth and drunk desperately trying to erase the disturbing sensation inside his heart. "I love you" he stated openly.

"I love you too…" she replied nibbling his lower lip. He blinked hearing the declaration of her unconditional love, "You are Tarzan, my first and last man, the father of my children…" She couldn't finish, he caught her words into his mouth. His fretful hands traveled down her back. She was all he needed.

The grating sound of the alarm-clock broke the harmonic silence and the body he was hugging disappeared like a fog among his arms. "No! Please…" but no one paid attention to his plead. He woke up alone in the middle of the huge bed.

Frustratingly he shot his fists against the mattress as every morning. If only he could find some way, any way, to avoid waking up!

The sunbeams filtered through the curtains, but this wasn't the sun he longed to see. John Clayton Jr. sat up on the empty bed, afterward his fingers combed his long blond mane. His face exposed his falsely submission's expression. Annoyingly he kicked the sheets, a hot shower could clear his mind. When he left the room he already dressed his civilized-man disguise.

Slowly the young Clayton crossed the atrium enjoying the green around; it was his favorite place into the mansion. He descended the stairs and entered to the dining room where his aunt's natural smile welcomed him. "Did you sleep well?" He confirmed monosyllabically.

Using the newspaper as parapet, Kathleen's cerulean eyes watched him sat down at the table. She could read him like an open book. She drank her coffee waiting that he cooled his mood.

Oh! She remembered the exciting stories that euphorically her nephew related every morning when they had breakfast long time ago. Why those stories bothered Richard it was a mystery that she wasn't able to understand. Her older brother didn't tolerate his nephew's useless fantasies, as he used to call them. Looking back she understood John's necessity. It was his way to face his parents' death. After the tragic accident when their plain crashed into the Congolese rainforest, those stories helped him to heal. It wasn't easy for him, the boy had been lost for more than one week into the wild jungle. It was a miracle that he survived.

John had been under his grandfather's custody, but when he died, three years later, the legal custody passed to her older brother, Richard. Then john's life turned to be a nightmare and she could do nothing to stop it with her eighteen years old.

After years of therapy her little John was forced to admit that his dreams were only fairies tales. From that moment the uncle-nephew's relationship worsened until it broke completely ten years ago. To be able to escape from the yoke of his father's brother, John had had to travel to the other side of the world. His formal residence was in England but his heart belonged to the wild lands around Congo River where he spent most of the time.

But now the illogical Richard's death forced John to come back. Richard's decease was inexplicable for her. Her older brother was extremely careful, what was he doing in Brooklyn Bridge at midnight? Was it a crime or suicide? The DNA test of the frostbitten remains, the teeth mostly, confirmed that it was Richard. Had he committed suicide with the deliberate propose of forcing John to return?

Against all her fears she had to compel him to face and overcame what Richard had prepared to him. "Two detectives come this afternoon to an interview. They investigate your uncle's death.

Could you do me a favor and talk to them, I'm really busy with Greystoke legal procedure." He didn't answer. His eyes fixed on the empty cup of tea.

Suddenly the cell-phone in his jacket pocket screeched. Reluctantly he picked the device. A female voice spoke playfully on the other side of the line. He grimaced sighing. "Thank you Elizabeth but…" mentally he looked for an excuse, "this afternoon I have an interview with the detectives that investigate my uncle death, it will be impossible to me to arrive on time to your social gathering. I'm sorry." He faked a sorrowful tone. "But hardly had I finished this annoying process, I promise, I call you back."

He cut the communication under the attentive aunt's gaze. "You'll never call her back…don't you?"

His mischievous smile danced on his mouth. "But it was a white lie…auntie." How can he explain to Kathleen his fidelity to the mother of his children? It was cataloged as just a fantasy, his imagination.

A shadow crossed through his eyes when the reason of his first internment came back to his memory. During one of his _fantasy_ a leopard had attacked him hurting his right shoulder. His three transversals bloody scratch were interpreted as a psychotic behavior for his uncle. '_You could use a knife with the single propose of attracting my attention_.' He heard Richard's words coming from the past. The knife was never found but it didn't stop Richard. The incident and all the shrinks under his uncle command persuaded him to close his mouth, to lie and to keep what he lived every night just for himself.


	2. She

**Author note:** I have a reader here! Wow great, as you requested, here is another post.

**Typical declaration**: I don't own any of the characters, story, and series of Tarzan. Edgar Rice Burroughs and WB created them. I'm not selling, or making any kind of profit off of this story I've written. No infringement is intended. This is solely for my own enjoyment and the enjoyment of others. (At last that is what I hope).

**This Dream**: Chapter 2

Hesitatingly the latch spun and the office door shrieked when John stepped head. He would prefer to be elsewhere but there. This room didn't keep good memories for him.

He stood in front of his uncle's desk for several minutes. His cerulean eyes watched at the Richard's big chair, it had been designed to impress and to intimidate like the whole room. It screamed '_I'm the boss_, _fear me_' How he hated it! "Well uncle I'm here, what are you gonna do?"

Behind his back Nash's authoritarian voice sounded saying, "Mr. Clayton the detectives are here." John turned scowling. That man was Richard's right hand, why was he announcing the policemen like a butler? John watched him intrigued. Patrick Nash was like a riddle, an unknowable and disconcerting person. Why had he worked to his uncle? He didn't know the answer, yet.

John surrounded the desk and sat down on the comfy chair that his uncle used to occupy and rolled it. He didn't bother to look at him when he said, "Ok Patrick," He deliberately used is first name,

"let them in."

"Ok Sir."

John perceived his disturbed tone and smiled. Taking the reins of that company would be a challenge for him, but he still didn't know if he wanted it or not. Through of the huge window the young Clayton contemplated the city bathed by the spring's solar beams. It wasn't his world.

He heard the door hiss when it opened up. "Mr. Clayton." A male voice called him. Reluctantly John turned to see a tall black man dressed faultlessly into a dark blue suit. "I'm Detective Sullivan."

The young Clayton tilted his head watching the open hand; he shook it then stated, "I thought that you were two detectives…"

He didn't finish the sentence when Nash angry voice screamed, "You can't be here!"

Detective Sullivan smirked. "Mmm My partner is searching some information in the next office."

"I'm sorry Mr. Nash but I have a warrant." John rose to his feet when he heard that voice. "So let me do my job please."

Sam Sullivan watched him walking outside smirking. '_Good bye gentleman, hello furious businessman_…' But far from John's mind was to argue with the other detective. Tarzan's heart beat wildly, it could jump out in any second. Inside him both men, the civilized and the feral one, stared at the auburn feminine figure that held Nash against the wall. "You don't let me another option Mr. Nash," she said handcuffing him, "I will free you when I finish my job." She raised her defiant eyes waiting for Clayton objections but any sound could escape from his mouth. The emotion got tied up into his throat so he was unable to murmur even a single word.

Sam frowned watching his reactions, '_Is this man sappy_?' the detective wondered, '_It seems that he knows her. But how? When? Where?_' "Mister Clayton let me introduce you my partner, Jane Porter."

John's finger pinched hard his arm to make sure that he wasn't dreaming.

He could have hundred of willingly women throwing herself to his bed, but for him only one existed, his soul mate, and she was standing in front of him. Like dragged by powerful magnet he couldn't detach his eyes from her figure. In tone with his drumming heart his mind was happily humming a single phrase: '_She is here_.'

Both detectives looked each other and start to laugh nervously. John couldn't help but blush. The situation was embarrassing but delightful.

Richard's faithful employee became furious seeing the Greystoke heir's reaction. "What are you, a teenager? Control your hormones, man!" Nash's angriest voice took John out of his daydream's state bringing him again to the reality.

He shook his head taking him several second to remember what he was doing. "Oh! Yeah. Why couldn't they enter into that office?" Of course Nash held his mouth shut. The notion that his uncle hid something inside that room impelled him to seize the latch. The door was locked. "Patrick," he commanded, "Open the door." Jane loosened her grip letting the man came closer to the door.

"Open it up." John repeated.

'_Damn cops_.' Nash hesitated. Inside this room was information that the imbecile nephew shouldn't know. "I don't have the key Mister Clayton."

The ironic smile was observed by the young heir. The man standing in front of Nash wasn't the John Clayton Jr. that he had once knew, that person had disappeared long time ago. "Ok." It was Tarzan who stepped back saying, "As you wish." His shoe furrowed the air impacting against the wooden surface. The door cracked and it didn't resist the second lunge. The impact fractured the wood around the hinges. After the third kick the surface broke and fell loudly. "We don't need the key any more." Mockingly he assured. "Thank you Mr. Nash, you can go now." Then he made a reverence. "After you mademoiselle."

Sam could not hold his laughter. His partner's face was priceless. He slapped the shoulder of the surprising wealthy man. "Well, evidently you know how to impress a policewoman." Laughing he move his shoe pushing aside the pieces of the broken door. "With that gallantry gesture she won't be been able to refuse to have dinner with you…"

She elbowed him hard when she passed near him. "Sorry Mr. Clayton, please don't pay attention to my partner foolishness." But John's twilling eyes showed her clearly that he liked Sam's idea.

An openmouthed Nash saw them enter into the room. Now he could not stop the events that will happen. The best course of action was to run way as soon as possible so he can save his life.

The room was practically empty except for one desk, two chairs and a big computer in the middle. It was cold inside.

John brought one of the chairs near the computer, "Please Detective Porter make it easy on your self. I'll stay with you to make sure no one interrupts your search." He assured sitting beside her.

'_Of course_,' Sam beamed learning his back on the opposite wall. He folded his arms in front of his chest studied the peculiar couple calmly. He had always listened to his guts and right now his guts recommended him to leave them alone. But he should act naturally so Jane didn't panic. '_Somewhere a window is opening when your heart's door closes_.' And that door had a name, Michael Foster.

The black man sighed noiselessly. She was hurt, deeply hurt and the explanation was brutally simple. She found her boyfriend bedded with another woman in the bed of the apartment that both had rented to live together. He couldn't blame her, it made her shut inside herself. She became distrustful of any man that approached to her. It still hurt painfully into her heart. But there was a light into her dark, a long haired blond light. '_Nothing better than a fervent admirer to lift a woman's fallen-ego_…' He considered, '_and God knows that she needs it desperately. Probably her ego would be more than five yards underground_.' He observed how they work together. There was something undecipherable among them. He could not say what it was but he could feel it surrounding them.

As she searched in to the system a name came out quickly, "Abruzzi! That is not good for you Mister Clayton."

John shrugged. "Who is Abruzzi?" Detective Porter rolled her eyes, or this man was an exceptional actor or indeed he didn't know what she was talking about. He perceived the doubt on her face expression. "I'm just come back, yesterday at night, and I have not stepped into this building for ten years."

"Mr. Clayton, you don't need to walk through this building to know what happens…" she argued, "The Abruzzi is a powerful mob family and to have business with them implies that your company can be involved in several federal crimes." Although her speech was dictated for her conscious brain, her heart sensed something different from him.

Why the man seated near her made her feel so trustful? Again she dove into the screen page but she felt the insistent gaze of him on her. It was exciting and perturbing at the same time. She not even dared to ogle his perfect features because she would meet his incredible cerulean eyes gazing at her.

He didn't fit at all with the image that she had of the typical insipid millionaire. In fact she expected a selfish brat but she found a fascinating man that perspired masculinity for each pore of his body. Oh God! He was the nearest thing to perfection she had ever seen with his long blond hair, his expressive sapphire eyes and his attractive incipient beard. 'Stop girl! Focus you in your job," she commanded herself unsuccessfully. 'Don't look how his shirt molds perfectly his muscular chest and his arms… How will it be to feel his arms around my… Stop it now girl. You must focus into your job, don't look at the breathtaking man near you.' But she eyed his smile. 'Why he is smiling? He couldn't know what she was thinking, no way. She fought to grab control of her raging hormones.

"I think you have everything under control." Sam's voice sounded to her ears like an unpleasant mock. "I'm sure Mr. Clayton will give you willingly all you need." She spun her head as her eyes yelling hundred of insults to her partner. He beamed understanding very well the massage of her fuming eyes, "You can send me an e-mail with the relevant details of your search. I'll go to speak with the forensic regarding the Mr. Clayton's uncle autopsy." He said walking to the broken door.

"Nice to meet you… Mr. Clayton."

John smiled seeing him disappear. "Nice guy…"

"Mr. Clayton…"

"Please, call me John." He requested although the name he wanted to hear from her lips was another name, one that began with T.

She hesitated but conceded, "Ok… John."

Before she could say another word he picked up his cell-phone, "Certainly we will be here for a long time." He pressed a button, "Perkins. Yes it's me. Could you bring an orange juice and..." She startled when he said. "…black coffee without sugar, right?" She nodded and he beamed, she was his Jane. She must be, it was his first test and she passed. "Please bring us some cookies, almond-shaped preferably. We are in the office near Richard's." Then he hung the phone.

She frowned without been able to hide her suspicion. It was odd that he knew how she likes the coffee, but how was it possible that he could know what kind of cookies she likes?


	3. The wife

Jane Porter sat down on the ground trying to catch her breath. She didn't know how much time they were running. But now this huge bush surrounding them functioned as refuge.

She eyed her fugitive partner sitting beside her. The man wasn't even perspiring. How was it possible? During fifteen minutes he had carried her on his arms, the time her organism needed to energize and revive. He seemed even offended when she requested him to set her on her feet.

The Detective watched as he threw his shoes and socks away. "What are you doing?"

He smirked. "They are useless and slow me when I run."

Three buttons flew off the shirt when his hand ripped its sleeves exposing his broad chest to her gaze. She forced herself to detach her eyes from him at the same time she hid her hands under her legs. She needed to hold them tight trying to resist the temptation of caressing those enticing pectorals.

'_Damn! Somebody should punish that man for causing a hormonal congestion on my blood stream_.' She quietly puffed commanding herself. '_Come on girl, talk something and stop gazing at his crotch_.' "We are lost in a wood." She pointed the obvious. "This place must be miles away from New York City. How do we end up here?"

"On the Greystoke's roof there is a hangar with two helicopters. Any of them could have brought us here." He looked around. "But I don't know where is _here_…"

The Detective leaned on the bush. A helicopter had possibly brought them here, it was a logical idea but some questions still rounded through her mind. "Who and why?"

"Katherine wanted to know if we knew about certain plan, an operation that they were carrying out."

"And you were whiling to answer all her questions." Why she was telling him this? She was illogically angry and shocked to hear her own voice assuring, "You like that bitch."

"No!" He categorically affirmed. "The only person I want to be with is sitting by my side."

"Yeah, right" under her sarcastic tone she hid a little happy smile.   
What's wrong with her? She hardly knew him. Why did she felt this way?

"I can't lie." He beamed, "neither you."

"Bullshit!"

"Katherine injected us a serum that forces us to say the truth and nothing but the truth."

"Amen!" She rolled her eyes. "You're watching too much TV boy…"

He didn't reply quickly. This situation should be considerer carefully. A mocking smile was drawn by his lips. "You can't lie. You have to tell the truth each time I make a question." He knew her and knew what button he should press to direct her where he wanted. "You can't lie even if you want."

The trap was spread waiting for her and she stepped ahead. "No one could force me to say something I don't want to say."

His smile grew wide. "Really?"

"Of course!" She was trap without escape.

Slowly he leaned in approaching his lips almost brushing hers, "Do you want to make love with me?" He enjoyed watching her blushing face. 

At first she hesitated but then her stubborn natural gesture sprouted when categorically she assured, "nnnyyes." She startled hearing her own voice. Stubbornly she tried again, "nnnyyyes." She kicked the ground. "Damn!" One more time. "NNNNYES." He simply couldn't stop laughing as she tried to deny unsuccessfully, over and over again, what truly she wanted. "Damn you. Shut up!" Several curses followed that statement, words that shouldn't be on a lady's mouth.  
She was a controlled woman, it couldn't be happening to her. Angrily she conceded, "Ok, you're hot, I admit it. But it implies that I want to pull down your pants and make love to you all night long." When she finished her sentence she realized that she forgot to mention the word '_don't_' before '_implies_'.

He couldn't control himself anymore. He cupped her cheek and kissed her. Their tongues danced an erotic ballet. God, how he loved this woman! When he pulled back he affectionately murmured, "I love the red on your face."

His words ignited her anger once more. "Don't dare to make fun of me!"

His expression became serious. "I'm not joking. I don't want to screw you. I need more than one night of hot sex. And believe me, the sex between two of us is more than hot." His hands slide tenderly down to her shoulders as he assured. "We will grow old together."

She swallowed hard. "But you don't even know me…"

"I do." His expression face softened as his love flooded his gaze. "Every morning you need your hot shower, your five minutes exercises and your dark bitter coffee to start the day." His eyes sparkled playfully, "You have a spider tattoo on your lower abdomen, on the right side. You joke about it saying that is your wild side." His hands kept their way down caressing her arms, brushing her breast, then his fingers entangled hers. "You love to dinner under a candle light but hate cooking. You detest when someone press the middle of the toothpaste. The right is your side of the bed." He chuckled, "And when you are tense a massage on the lower part of your back always calm you down."

She was still looking at his expressive aqua eyes. "How can you know so many things about me?"

"Because… you are the woman of my dreams." He said before her lips were caught by his mouth.

She slowly opened her eyes coming back from the blissful world of pleasure he had driven her.

Jane moved carefully trying not to wake up the naked and gorgeous body that rested above her.

Her hands began to glide playfully over his sweaty and muscular back. Tenderly she pulled him to her and held him closer. She even enjoyed feeling his breathing on her neck as he slept!

'_The drug should affect some unknown area of my brain forcing this illogical behavior on me_.' There wasn't another logical explanation for the teenage blissful emotions this man awaked on her. God! She wasn't a stupid little lady who with two or three nice words could be easily taken to bed. She had played under-the-sheet's game before, why did he affect her that way?

Her mind tried to explain the source of her bizarre manners while her hands folded his butt.

'_It should be illegal to feel so well_!'

She had never lost control over her own actions before, no matter what she did. And God knows that she wasn't naive on bed. But what happened to her body and mind with this man was surprising, blissfully unexpected. His master hands made her went crazy each time he touched her. It seemed he knew inch by inch the geography of her body.

A mischievously smile danced on her lips.

'_Michael, Michael, Michael. _ _I never expected to find a man that could dethrone you from my sex pole position. But do you know what?_ _He makes me cry louder than you_…'

She pressed firmly her lips trying to hold back her laughter. It would be absolutely embarrassing to explain the reason why she roared with laughter if he woke up.

Tears rolled on her cheek but at the end she could control herself.

John Clayton Jr. was different from any man she had known before. His mixture of savagism and kindness overwhelmed her. On the city he was a gentleman but here in the country he transformed himself… she didn't find the proper word to describe him. She could swear that he even moved as a simian when he picked her up to climb a tree.

Since she had met the atypical heir her mind had forgotten Michael and what he did to her. This man was a puzzle and she loved to solve riddles. Did she want to discover what he was hidden behind his civilized façade? Or was she frightened to discover that he wasn't so different from the man who had broken her heart?

She smirked. She couldn't fall in love with him so easily no matter how charming or amazing he was on bed. Besides, she didn't know if he would want to see her again when the end of their adventure arrive. '_Open your eyes girl. He is a wealthy man and you are nothing more than another mark on his long list. No matter what he had said, he only wanted to sleep with you_.'

While her mind traveled through the tortured road of her bitter facts her eyes noticed a drop of blood on his left shoulder.

'_When did he get hurt_?' Their intercourse hadn't been soft but she didn't realize that she had hurt him. Before her finger could touch his shoulder, before her eyes, a red line furrowed toward his upper leg opening his flesh. "John!" She shook him hard. "You're bleeding!"

He moaned angrily. He didn't want to wake up and find out that his dream was over again. But when he opened his eyes Jane's worried face was watching him. He couldn't suppress his smile. "You're here!"

"You're bleeding!" She repeated forcing him to sit up. "How…?"

He smile grew wide. "Oh! This…" He cleaned the spot with his bare hand tinting it with red. "I knew that the panther curb will scratch my shoulder." He watched his red palm and shook his head smiling. "I shouldn't get him off the tree."

"What curb?" She screamed stunned. She hated when she couldn't understand what was happening around her. "What are you talking about?"

He startled. She didn't know about his dream, about his other life.

Indeed it wasn't easy to explain.

But he couldn't lie to her if he wanted to share his life with her.

Besides, what it happened today will happen over and over again through all of his life.

It was useless to delay the answer she was looking for but…. Fear climbed to his eyes.

Could she accept the truth or would she deny it as Richard did?

…..

"I think I don't forget anything…"

She looked at John Clayton Jr without mutter a word. What could she say? He had just shared with her his entire life without omitting any detail.

She had contemplated the sad and lonely expression of his face when he spoke about his uncle reaction, how hard was for him to admit that Richard preferred to consider him crazy than loving him.

Although her analytic brain found hard to accept his story she witnessed with her own eyes how the bloody line furrowed his skin. In front of her was the irrefutable proof of what was happening to him. Even a blind couldn't deny that something was going on.

Her mind was trained to tie the facts, it didn't matter how bizarre it seemed to be.

It was undeniable that this man knew each intimate details of her life.

He had described her morning routine as he witnessed it every morning. He even knew how she ordered inside the drawer the underwear according size and color.

But what bewildered her most was that he knew where she had kept her mother's treasure, a picture of Paul McCartney that the singer had signed on the Beatles era.

Michael never knew about it.

The sun began to appear behind the horizon painting blue traces on the sky of the new day.

She slowly stood up stretching her arm. The picture of her naked body against the nascent sun took his breath away. He beamed enjoying the spectacle that she candidly was giving him.

Did she realize how beautiful she was?

And she was his… he was simply the happiest man on earth.

He started to stand up while she picked their clothes up from the ground. "We have to look for a street or a route to be able to find a phone…" His hands playfully slipped all over her back. She instantly froze sensing his hot breath on her neck whispering her name. All she could do was leaning on him as his hand surrounded her waist. "John we need…"

"Call me Tarzan" he whispered nibbling her earlobe.

Her hands couldn't hold the clothes any more. They had more interesting things to do on his body. She spun searching desperately his lips.

The day was young and they could depart later…


	4. I love you

Jane's badge and the cell-phone lay forgotten inside the pocket of her jacket that slept in a corner of the room. Over a plastic white table, an empty glass and cup idled near a plate covered by cookies' crumbs. The detective had lost the notion of the time sunk into her assignment.

The amount of information was overwhelming. The connections the company had, reached even to the government's high spheres. It included diverse economics' matters, but all of them surrounded four topics: petroleum, oil, energy power, and military resources to control them. Asia, Europe, South America, Oceania, each part of the globe was considered regarding the economic potential utilization for the company.

While she examined the content of the computer, a playfully smile danced around Tarzan's lips while his imagination drew diverse stories and scenarios where Jane always ended under him, surrendering to her-own desires.

It was paradoxical. He had looked desperately for her all over the world, and when he gave up, when finally he had accepted the fact that he would never find her, she had appeared unexpectedly lighting his life. For the first time in his life he thanked Richard's interference.

With all the time he needed at his side, John studied her face silhouette, the outline of her lips. Progressively his vision slipped toward the tempting curves of her body. Snorting soundlessly he curled his finger into a fist trying to control himself, trying to control his hands. They dreadfully wanted to follow the route traced by his eyes across the voluptuous geography of her body. His gaze got entangled with her tempting lips. He was eager to taste them wondering if they had the same flavor.

Impelled by an internal impulse that he didn't want to combat, Tarzan approached furtively to the curve of her neck and aspired deeply. It was her scent, although she tried to mask it behind an intoxicant artificial fragrance. She could pretend not to see him near her but he knew that she wasn't immune to his nearness. The light change of her scent, the light tremor of her body when he came closer it was clear indications of what happened inside her.

A seductive game was developing between them. A game tacitly accepted and played by both of them, a game that had a lustful prize.

He leaned on the back of his seat. In fact he had to admit that he really didn't know her. Simply he was fascinated with the similarities and differences between the 'woman' he loved. He recognized her typical gestures, the way she bit her lower lip when she was concentrated on a task. But this Jane was different in many ways to the one he used to know. She was and wasn't his Jane. Behind this detective was a lifetime of different baggage.

Suddenly a somber thought startled him.

Could be another man in her life?

The possibility that somebody else share a side of her bed made him angry. Without being able to control himself, he rose hitting with both fists the table.

She jumped hearing the blow and spun her head. '_What the hell happens to this man_?' Her eyes searched through the screen. '_He must be read something in the screen_', it was the only logical explanation she could find to his behavior. Intuitively she followed a link and her eyes opened wide reading the page. She couldn't read to the end, abruptly the computer turned off, then the lights of the room, finally a metallic door fell cutting the exit.

His keen ears identified the high-hiss of the gas filling the sealed room, although his nose couldn't detect any scent. A profuse nauseous sensation invaded his abdomen and his legs couldn't hold his weight anymore. Without been able to stop her, he watched as Jane fell down fainted. Instinctively he covered her body with his own before losing his consciousness.

John Clayton tried to move but his legs didn't obey his brain's command. His eyes slowly and difficultly opened up. All around him was foggy, fuzzy and blurred. He shook his head but his perception didn't get better. Two unclear forms moved around him. At his right site he could glimpse a third silhouette. It was tied to the back of a seat, immobile with long auburn hair on its face. It took him two minutes to recognize her scent. "Jane…" he babbled.

"He wakes up!" An unknown male's voice annoyingly hummed near his right ear, "The gas didn't work correctly. It had kept him unconscious less than one hour."

"It was enough…"A female voice coldly commanded, "We can interrogate him first."

Five cold fingers grabbed his arms. He attempted to toss it way but the grip tightened every time he fought back. "Mr Clayton, it's futile what you do." Irritably the female voice grumbled. Something nailed on his forearm and a cold tickling sensation traveled across his arm growing through all his body. "Ok Mr. Clayton." A pale slender woman figure appeared in front of him. "My name is Katherine Pelotuda." Her finger skirted his muscular shoulders as she leered at him. After she done her job, he could become her sex-toy. She licked her lower lip imaging what she could do with him. "I have applied you a sophisticated version of what I like to call truth's serum. Every time I ask you something you will feel a compulsion of answering and you couldn't help but tell the truth. You can't lie to me darling."

"I never lie" He replied.

A laughter was her answer. "Really? We can do a little experiment." She slipped her hand under his shirt. "Do you want to play a doctor with me?"

"Katherine..." His cold eyes faced her as she beamed. "Katherine… I never liked that name…" He snorted freezing her movements. "I would never bed a woman with that name." He stated beyond doubts. Hesitantly she removed her hand from his skin. "Do you really believe that I would like to touch someone like you if I had someone like her?"

It was an unexpected answer. All she could do was asking back, "And who is she?"

"My wife…" He quickly assured.

The woman frowned. "That information is not in the Greystoke's files."

"Greystoke…"A smile leaned on his lips. "There are many things that my uncle ignores of me."

"Evidently," She rose slowly trying to put herself together, "Although he would love to know that the Claytons will have futures heirs…" She spun and typed on the computer. "What's her name?"

"Jane Porter"

Without looking at him she finished typing on the PC. "Ok the file is updated."

"Now we can go on with our business…" A male's voice playfully spoke behind John.

The fist smashed John's face for fourth time. "Answer the question!" Only a grunt came out of his mouth. The young Clayton was drugged and couldn't control what he said so he decided to be mute. Of course his silence didn't please his captors.

"What do you know about the operation?" The woman named Katherine annoyingly asked again. He was hard to break and she was tired of his resistance. Since the sequence of bumps didn't have effect on the heir she chose to change the tactic. "Ok, you don't want to cooperate with us so…" John's eyes followed her silhouette while she came closer to the fainted cop. She grabbed a nail, soaked it in a bold filled with an amber liquid and pricked Jane's arm saying, "It's time to wake up Mrs Clayton."

His warning grunt reached her ear. Katherine laughed. "You sound like an animal." His eyes focused on the feminine figure in front of him. The adrenaline ran furious through his blood vessel. "If you tell me what I need to know I won't have to hurt her…" She lied. Katherine had plans for this gorgeous man. But he was married and his wife didn't enter into her plans so she would make him widow.

Jane's mind reacted at Katherine's words in spite of her blunt brain. "Don't say anything. In the moment she finds out what she needs to know we will be dispensable and then she will kill us both."

Katherine's hand reacted slapping Jane's face, "Shut up bitch!"

Tarzan frantically rose charging against the woman but her bodyguard moved faster kicking his leg. John fell on the ground. "I can't believe he could move!" The hulk complained, "The gas didn't work."

As his vision became clearer Tarzan could watch the features of his captors. The pale faced woman with short dark hair approached to a table and grabbed a syringe with yellowish liquid inside. "Mr Clayton if you keep on this attitude I will let Robert have fun with your wife." Her cold and harsh voice warned him, "and you won't be able to do anything to stop him."

"I will kill you both if he touches a single hair of her."

Jane shivered hearing the tone of his voice. There was such passion. She didn't doubt that he could kill them. It was inexplicable but she felt envy of Mrs. Clayton. He had to love her so much.

Through her blurred vision the Detective observed as the woman kneeled and circled Clayton's head. He tried to bite her hand. The noise of his teeth's direct impact near Katherine flesh amused her. "Your husband is an animal Mrs Clayton." Jane raised her head realizing that she was 'Mrs. Clayton'. The woman licked her lower lip. "I'm eager to see how he behaves on my bed."

He grunted louder. Jane's cop brain interpreted that he was deliberately hiding her police condition. Probably he knew what he was doing so she followed the game as the woman came closer her holding something in her hand. "I'm all right honey, don't worry." Now was his turn to raise his head shocked.

"I hope you are more cooperative than your husband Mrs. Clayton." The woman warned as the syringe emptied its content into his forearm.

"What the hell…" The detective felt the stink, then a cold tickling sensation traveled across her arm growing through all her body. It was an odd sensation, like she was drunk.

"Ok" the annoyed female voice stated "you will answer all my questions."

But the voice faded being replaced by a fight's noise and some screams. Suddenly something gobbled the light of the room. "What happen?" No one said a word. She heard a door as it opened up, more screams and several guns shoots then completely silence. "What's going on here?"

Five minutes later, abruptly, her ties fell on the ground. Two powerful arms raised her. "Everything is gonna be alright." Clayton's husky voice lulled her.

Tenderly his lips brushed hers. Without thinking she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Her own reaction startled her.

He felt her shock. "How do you feel?"

"Horny" she couldn't stop saying.

He beamed seeing her confuse expression face. She had to wait for the explanation of what was happening to her. "We have to get out of here."

The outside light hit their eyes.

"Where are we?" her vision was still blurred.

"We are in a wood." He said as he ran carrying her in his arms.


	5. This dream R

Jane Porter sat down on the ground trying to catch her breath. She didn't know how much time they were running. But now this huge bush surrounding them functioned as refuge.

She eyed her fugitive partner sitting beside her. The man wasn't even perspiring. How was it possible? During fifteen minutes he had carried her on his arms, the time her organism needed to energize and revive. He seemed even offended when she requested him to set her on her feet.

The Detective watched as he threw his shoes and socks away. "What are you doing?"

He smirked. "They are useless and slow me when I run."

Three buttons flew off the shirt when his hand ripped its sleeves exposing his broad chest to her gaze. She forced herself to detach her eyes from him at the same time she hid her hands under her legs. She needed to hold them tight trying to resist the temptation of caressing those enticing pectorals.

'_Damn! Somebody should punish that man for causing a hormonal congestion on my blood stream_.' She quietly puffed commanding herself. '_Come on girl, talk something and stop gazing at his crotch_.' "We are lost in a wood." She pointed the obvious. "This place must be miles away from New York City. How do we end up here?"

"On the Greystoke's roof there is a hangar with two helicopters. Any of them could have brought us here." He looked around. "But I don't know where is _here_…"

The Detective leaned on the bush. A helicopter had possibly brought them here, it was a logical idea but some questions still rounded through her mind. "Who and why?"

"Katherine wanted to know if we knew about certain plan, an operation that they were carrying out."

"And you were whiling to answer all her questions." Why she was telling him this? She was illogically angry and shocked to hear her own voice assuring, "You like that bitch."

"No!" He categorically affirmed. "The only person I want to be with is sitting by my side."

"Yeah, right" under her sarcastic tone she hid a little happy smile.   
What's wrong with her? She hardly knew him. Why did she felt this way?

"I can't lie." He beamed, "neither you."

"Bullshit!"

"Katherine injected us a serum that forces us to say the truth and nothing but the truth."

"Amen!" She rolled her eyes. "You're watching too much TV boy…"

He didn't reply quickly. This situation should be considerer carefully. A mocking smile was drawn by his lips. "You can't lie. You have to tell the truth each time I make a question." He knew her and knew what button he should press to direct her where he wanted. "You can't lie even if you want."

The trap was spread waiting for her and she stepped ahead. "No one could force me to say something I don't want to say."

His smile grew wide. "Really?"

"Of course!" She was trap without escape.

Slowly he leaned in approaching his lips almost brushing hers, "Do you want to make love with me?" He enjoyed watching her blushing face. 

At first she hesitated but then her stubborn natural gesture sprouted when categorically she assured, "nnnyyes." She startled hearing her own voice. Stubbornly she tried again, "nnnyyyes." She kicked the ground. "Damn!" One more time. "NNNNYES." He simply couldn't stop laughing as she tried to deny unsuccessfully, over and over again, what truly she wanted. "Damn you. Shut up!" Several curses followed that statement, words that shouldn't be on a lady's mouth.  
She was a controlled woman, it couldn't be happening to her. Angrily she conceded, "Ok, you're hot, I admit it. But it implies that I want to pull down your pants and make love to you all night long." When she finished her sentence she realized that she forgot to mention the word '_don't_' before '_implies_'.

He couldn't control himself anymore. He cupped her cheek and kissed her. Their tongues danced an erotic ballet. God, how he loved this woman! When he pulled back he affectionately murmured, "I love the red on your face."

His words ignited her anger once more. "Don't dare to make fun of me!"

His expression became serious. "I'm not joking. I don't want to screw you. I need more than one night of hot sex. And believe me, the sex between two of us is more than hot." His hands slide tenderly down to her shoulders as he assured. "We will grow old together."

She swallowed hard. "But you don't even know me…"

"I do." His expression face softened as his love flooded his gaze. "Every morning you need your hot shower, your five minutes exercises and your dark bitter coffee to start the day." His eyes sparkled playfully, "You have a spider tattoo on your lower abdomen, on the right side. You joke about it saying that is your wild side." His hands kept their way down caressing her arms, brushing her breast, then his fingers entangled hers. "You love to dinner under a candle light but hate cooking. You detest when someone press the middle of the toothpaste. The right is your side of the bed." He chuckled, "And when you are tense a massage on the lower part of your back always calm you down."

She was still looking at his expressive aqua eyes. "How can you know so many things about me?"

"Because… you are the woman of my dreams." He said before her lips were caught by his mouth.

She slowly opened her eyes coming back from the blissful world of pleasure he had driven her.

Jane moved carefully trying not to wake up the naked and gorgeous body that rested above her.

Her hands began to glide playfully over his sweaty and muscular back. Tenderly she pulled him to her and held him closer. She even enjoyed feeling his breathing on her neck as he slept!

'_The drug should affect some unknown area of my brain forcing this illogical behavior on me_.' There wasn't another logical explanation for the teenage blissful emotions this man awaked on her. God! She wasn't a stupid little lady who with two or three nice words could be easily taken to bed. She had played under-the-sheet's game before, why did he affect her that way?

Her mind tried to explain the source of her bizarre manners while her hands folded his butt.

'_It should be illegal to feel so well_!'

She had never lost control over her own actions before, no matter what she did. And God knows that she wasn't naive on bed. But what happened to her body and mind with this man was surprising, blissfully unexpected. His master hands made her went crazy each time he touched her. It seemed he knew inch by inch the geography of her body.

A mischievously smile danced on her lips.

'_Michael, Michael, Michael. _ _I never expected to find a man that could dethrone you from my sex pole position. But do you know what?_ _He makes me cry louder than you_…'

She pressed firmly her lips trying to hold back her laughter. It would be absolutely embarrassing to explain the reason why she roared with laughter if he woke up.

Tears rolled on her cheek but at the end she could control herself.

John Clayton Jr. was different from any man she had known before. His mixture of savagism and kindness overwhelmed her. On the city he was a gentleman but here in the country he transformed himself… she didn't find the proper word to describe him. She could swear that he even moved as a simian when he picked her up to climb a tree.

Since she had met the atypical heir her mind had forgotten Michael and what he did to her. This man was a puzzle and she loved to solve riddles. Did she want to discover what he was hidden behind his civilized façade? Or was she frightened to discover that he wasn't so different from the man who had broken her heart?

She smirked. She couldn't fall in love with him so easily no matter how charming or amazing he was on bed. Besides, she didn't know if he would want to see her again when the end of their adventure arrive. '_Open your eyes girl. He is a wealthy man and you are nothing more than another mark on his long list. No matter what he had said, he only wanted to sleep with you_.'

While her mind traveled through the tortured road of her bitter facts her eyes noticed a drop of blood on his left shoulder.

'_When did he get hurt_?' Their intercourse hadn't been soft but she didn't realize that she had hurt him. Before her finger could touch his shoulder, before her eyes, a red line furrowed toward his upper leg opening his flesh. "John!" She shook him hard. "You're bleeding!"

He moaned angrily. He didn't want to wake up and find out that his dream was over again. But when he opened his eyes Jane's worried face was watching him. He couldn't suppress his smile. "You're here!"

"You're bleeding!" She repeated forcing him to sit up. "How…?"

He smile grew wide. "Oh! This…" He cleaned the spot with his bare hand tinting it with red. "I knew that the panther curb will scratch my shoulder." He watched his red palm and shook his head smiling. "I shouldn't get him off the tree."

"What curb?" She screamed stunned. She hated when she couldn't understand what was happening around her. "What are you talking about?"

He startled. She didn't know about his dream, about his other life.

Indeed it wasn't easy to explain.

But he couldn't lie to her if he wanted to share his life with her.

Besides, what it happened today will happen over and over again through all of his life.

It was useless to delay the answer she was looking for but…. Fear climbed to his eyes.

Could she accept the truth or would she deny it as Richard did?

"I think I don't forget anything…"

She looked at John Clayton Jr without mutter a word. What could she say? He had just shared with her his entire life without omitting any detail.

She had contemplated the sad and lonely expression of his face when he spoke about his uncle reaction, how hard was for him to admit that Richard preferred to consider him crazy than loving him.

Although her analytic brain found hard to accept his story she witnessed with her own eyes how the bloody line furrowed his skin. In front of her was the irrefutable proof of what was happening to him. Even a blind couldn't deny that something was going on.

Her mind was trained to tie the facts, it didn't matter how bizarre it seemed to be.

It was undeniable that this man knew each intimate details of her life.

He had described her morning routine as he witnessed it every morning. He even knew how she ordered inside the drawer the underwear according size and color.

But what bewildered her most was that he knew where she had kept her mother's treasure, a picture of Paul McCartney that the singer had signed on the Beatles era.

Michael not even knew about it.

The sun began to appear behind the horizon painting blue traces on the sky of the new day.

She slowly stood up stretching her arm. The picture of her naked body against the nascent sun took his breath away. He beamed enjoying the spectacle that she candidly was giving him.

Did she realize how beautiful she was?

And she was his… he was simply the happiest man on earth.

He started to stand up while she picked their clothes up from the ground. "We have to look for a street or a route to be able to find a phone…" His hands playfully slipped all over her back. She instantly froze sensing his hot breath on her neck whispering her name. All she could do was leaning on him as his hand surrounded her waist. "John we need…"

"Call me Tarzan" he whispered nibbling her earlobe.

Her hands couldn't hold the clothes any more. They had more interesting things to do on his body. She spun searching desperately his lips.

The day was young and they could depart later…

….

Both were tired. None of them knew how long they were walking. The sun started to hide behind the skyline. The night was coming again for second time on their journey. The landscape had lightly changed, the light on the horizon showed the human presence.

The first building they could sight was a garner. It was the perfect place where they could spend the night. Clandestinely the couple entered into the warehouse looking for a spot where they could sleep. Both were exhausted and the straw was the best mattress they could find.

Hardly the detective leaned her head on the unusual bed she was sleeping. John slept lightly a couple of hours but suddenly his stomach grunted loudly waking him up.

He had seen some fruit trees near the barn. She was deeply sleeping so he silently slipped out of the straw mattress. He looked around smelling, it wouldn't take him too much time to gather some fruit for their breakfast.

Jane stretched her arms but she kept sleeping without noticing her adventure partner had gone. But suddenly something cold touched her forehead. Her hand tried to toss it away but her finger hit a cold iron. The detective opened her eyes finding a shotgun pointing to her head.

"You're in a privet property lady." An angry man spit.

She sighted around, there wasn't a single trace of the heir. Her eyes returned to the barrel on her temple. "You're right sir. I should apologize to trespass into your property."

The man stepped back sneering. "Nice try lady but it won't prevent me to shot you…"

She sat up slowly. "I'm sorry sir. You're right, you should call the police. I would appreciate if you do it."

He smirked. "Maybe I can shot you before I call the police."

"Please sir." She insisted, "Could you call the police, I'm a New York police detective..."

Now he laughed. "Oh! That is a good joke. You are on the other side of the States lady ..." But he couldn't finish his phrase. Something held him from behind lifting him across the air. All he could see was the ceiling of the barn. The terrified man shot twice until the rifle was pulled down by a hand. The man started to scream, "Ya gonna put me down right now, you freak of nature!"

"As you wish" Tarzan said raising the man higher.

Before he could smash the farmer on the floor Jane yelled a big "No!" stopping him.

"He wanted to shot you!"

"I know" She leaned a hand on his chest, "I know, but we are into his property. He had the right to get angry and call the police." Under her touch the jungle man relaxed. "And we need him to call the police."

"But if he wants to hurt you…"

She smiled, "I doubt it." Her hand massaged his powerful chest, "Are you gonna try to hurt us sir?" The terrified man shook his head. She held a laugh, it was the devil inside her, the situation was funny to her. "I think you can put him down. Slowly… please don't hurt him. We need him to call the police."

John's arms lowered and freed the petrified farmer who didn't dare to move. His gaze was fixed on the blond savage man. "Sir…" Jane called him smoothly but the man didn't react. "Sir…" She insisted loud. "Could you call the police please?"

The man seemed to come out of a trance, his hand searched into his trousers pocket and took the cell phone out. As he started to speak explaining what was happening, relieved, she sighed.

The nightmare was over.

The detective raised her eyes meeting John's gaze.

She only could see sadness inside his eyes.

Jane was comfortably sitting on a couch with a cup of coffee into her hands. As the dark fluid bathed her throat she moaned. Oh! How could she survived three days without it?

The detective eyed at her adventure partner, he was silently dinking a glass of orange juice. No word was exchanger since the incident on the barn.

The sheriff of this little town had requested information of the couple sending a fax to the precinct where she worked but after one and half hour of waiting patiently no reply had come. There was nothing she could do but wait.

Ok, now that their unusual adventure had concluded he should feel alleviated but she didn't see relief in his expression face, it was concern. He was probably considering the pros and cons of what had happened between them. She couldn't fool herself. The wealthy world where he belonged never would accept her. She only could enter into John's life by the backdoor as one of his mistress and it wasn't a good perspective of life for her, even the idea of sharing her nights and bed with him was tempting.

Her mind was clear now. The right moment to analyze what had happened and prevent the consequences of her erratic behavior had arrived. They had made love without protection too many times along this three days. She needed to take the 'morning-before pill' as soon as possible.

Slowly she lowered her arm placing the cup on the table, her elbows leaned on her knees and she dropped her chin on her palms. He sighted her lotto position. He needed to think something to retain her by his side. "It would be better…" He started to speak trying to find the proper words, knowing her she probably was twisting all into her mind. "It would be better if we…"

"…forget what happened between us." She ended his sentence. "Don't worry I understand."

This damned stubborn woman! "No, you don't understand." He snorted. "It would be better if we didn't find that barn… instead of being losing the time here… we would be making love!"

"Hold on your hormones jungle man!" She slapped his knee. "We need to go back to our lives. Your wealthy life is waiting for you and I have to solve your uncle's murder…"

He leaned in gazing at her. "Wait a second! Do you think I would let you run away after having take advantage of me?"

"What!" She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You enjoyed my body coquettish woman and now that you had what you wanted… you leave me…" He pretended weeping, "You took my virginity…" She couldn't help but roar with laughter. "I was weak… because you told me you'll marry me…"

"John, please stop!"

He beamed. "I love your laughter…"

Suddenly the door of the office opened up and a wrathful Aunt Kathleen entered. "John Clayton Jr!" She yelled at him, "How do you dare to do this to me?"

"What have I done?" John rose to his feet. As his aunt hugged him tight he hugged her back. He startled seeing tears in her eyes. "Aunt Kathleen… I'm fine."

But she didn't listen to him her attention was on the detective. She smiled at her. "You must be Jane." She nodded watching John's aunt come close to her. "Can I hug you?"

Ok that was weird. She looked at John and he shrugged. "Ok…" This family was too affectionate.

"Welcome to the family!" Jane froze. "Niece!" What the hell was going on here?

Jane held her breath as John's aunt freed her from her embrace. "Sorry it was an unexpected surprise," the woman apologized, "I didn't know what to think about when I read it on the New York Time's font-page … John always was so secretive but I should be offended by…" the aunt rose her gaze and for the first time she watched their expressions. She giggled. "Your little secret is no longer a secret darling..."

"What secret?" John asked frowning.

Slowly the aunt stepped back. "John… please, this game is not funny. It is in all newspaper front-page…." Looking at the bewilderment on their faces' gestures the aunt opened the newspaper and placed it on the near table. "Did you really believe that if you married nobody will find out? You're a Clayton. No matter how far or deep you hide there is always a reporter or a paparazzi chasing you."

The shocked couple could not even cry out reading about their secret wedding and their hidden honeymoon in the woods.

"But we don't…" the detective couldn't make a coherent phrase. "We were… but we…"

"I didn't believe it at first either." The aunt explained, "I wanted to know who Jane Porter was and I called to the precinct where you work. The Captain Connor was shocked as I holding the paper you sent him requesting vacations for your honeymoon…"

The detective tripped, "Sorry… I need to sit down."

John held her carefully helping her. The news had shocked him at first but, as the second passed by, it pleased him. He was looking for something to retain her, nothing better than a marriage, even a false one. When he gazed at her eyes, they told him that she understood what he was thinking. He leaned in and kissed her. "There is no reason to keep pretending." He beamed seeing Jane' terrified expression. "Aunt Kathleen I want you to meet my wife… Jane Porter Clayton."

…

The Clayton private Jet traveled across the sky toward New York City. The flight had been calm without problems. During the entire trip none of then spoke a single word. However, the detective brain didn't stop to work any second.

It was evident that the false marriage had been used like a screen to hide their kidnapping. The plot had been carefully planned. She wondered when her sudden vacation had been requested, how long after her disappearance. Everything was confusing. Whom could she trust?

Because of Richard's murder, she had had to study the Clayton family background. She knew about the problematic relationship between each one of family member. Each one of them was a suspect of the crime, but John had a powerful alibi, he arrived to the States seven days after Richard's murder. But she knew nothing about Kathleen.

Greystoke was involved in one of the most complicate embezzlements against the economy. If she followed the trace found on the computer and unwound this tangle the clan Clayton would be in the middle of a huge scandal. Was she voluntarily entering into the wolf mouth? What would they do to stop her? Could they kill her? Or… they would imagine a mode to involve her into the family forcing her to shut her mouth.

It cannot be a lie what they had been through together. Besides, she had witnessed how John's skin opened up bleeding without a logical reason. For god sake! He knew some intimate details of her life that only a daily coexistence could tell. Definitely, she was going crazy because she believed his dreams were real.

God! Never in her life had she felt this way. What happened with her?

His fingers touched her arm and a chill traveled trough her spine. It was frighten the magnitude of her emotional and physics answer to a simple touch of his finger on her skin. Image of their intimate shared moments came into her mind. She could not help but flush. Pretending to think she hid her face behind her hand.

The newspaper front-page made her get angry, he had manipulated her but as the trip continued she had time to calm down and think. Both were knotted in a tense tangle that could strangle them anytime. She was feeling like a marionette. Who was the puppet master?

They could be in danger, the same people that had kidnapped them before could be watching them right now. It was necessary to control the situation and she knew how.

She leaned in and kissed lightly on his lips. As she expected he immediately reacted. His hands slipped around her waist pulling her to his chest. She forced her to ignore the effect of his tongue inside her mouth, '_ok girl focus on what you have to do not in his excellent way of kissing_.' Reluctantly she pulled back and whispered on his ear, "We need to talk elsewhere." The way his hands moved on her back told her that he didn't want to talk. "We need to look for a cab and slip away." He just groaned sliding his fingers under her shirt. Fiercely his lips captured her mouth and every coherent thought ran away from her.

Someone cleared the throat and Jane jumped reddening from toe to head while John annoyingly grunted. "Sorry kids," Kathleen couldn't hide her mocking smile, "The limousine was waiting for us outside." Damn, she even noticed that the plane had landed. Jane flushed even more, if it could be possible.

John's hormones replied instantly, "I think… if you don't have problems… we…" he blinked his eyes and the aunt smiled understanding. The aunt could remember the last time he had such happy expression on his face.

Kathleen didn't need other explanation. "Of course…" From her wallet she took out money placing it on the table, "Enjoy the night kids." She giggled affirming, "You can stay in the plane all the time you want. It's all yours." And she closed the door behind her.

John turned willing to continue where they had been when his aunt interrupted them but Jane's hands stopped him. "Sorry John, but you have to wait…" He didn't hide his displeasure. She stood up needing to keep some distance. "We need a private place…"

"Ok…" He took the money, "we can look for a hotel room if you want."

She beamed. They needed a neutral place to talk and… other things. But she couldn't talk freely inside the machine, it could be bugs listening what they were talking. She took his hand and pulled him out off the ship.

The third time she looked surreptitiously over her shoulder she murmured, "I'm sorry to ruin your romantic night but I think we are still in danger. They could are spying us right now."

He looked around. She was right. They were still an easy target. He put his arm protectively on her shoulder. "I know a way to slip away so they can't follow us." He beamed. "It's fast, secure and untracked way…" He stopped beside a vertical wall, "believe me, no one could hunt us."

…

She looked down terrified. To jump all over the New York City rooftops wasn't what she could call a safety way to travel, but evidently it was a faster and untracked way to cross the city.

They needed a place to spend the night and they needed to contact someone trustful. The phone could be tracked so they headed to the building without further invitation. He would kill her but there was no other choice.

Jane closed her eyes wrapping her arms around John's neck and he started to slide down on the vertical and plain wall. How could he do that? There was no crack but his fingers found the way down. A window was unlocked so he easily opened it. They stepped inside the corridor building and walked trough the darkness until she saw his door. She knocked on it.

Sam's sleepy face appeared in front of her. He rubbed his eyes and pinched himself.

"Hi Sam" She dared to mutter.

He enfolded his arms on his chest raising his brows as his right foot tapped frantically on the floor, "Hi Sam!" He repeated, "Is that all you can say? Hi Sam!" Her partner raised his eyes gazing at her companion. "So the newly wed decided to appear once more!"

"The newly kidnapped!" she corrected him, "this hurried wedding was a masquerade. Someone kidnapped us"

"Kidnapped you?"

"Yes Sam, we were kidnapping not in a honey moon…" Before John could add something she turned and commanded him, "Shut up!" Then she pushed her partner, "I really need to rest and you are the only people I can trust."

The openmouthed black man stepped aside letting them walk in.

She allowed fall herself on the couch, beside her John sat down. Sam went to the kitchen and made two big cups of coffee, one for his partner and another for himself. After asking he poured orange juice on a glass for Jane's fake husband.

"Ok," He observed her sip the black liquid, "Can you tell me what the hell happened to you both?"

Without interruptions she related every detail of their adventure, of course she deliberately avoided any information about what happened between her and John, but Sam didn't need a verbal confirmation. What he was witnessing was enough, their body language was screaming they were lovers. Finally, when she finished her relate, he exclaimed, "I'm happy to have a poor family buddy…" He scratched his chin thinking. "First in the morning I will phone your sister. We don't know if your line have bugs on it, just to be careful I'll use a precinct's phone line. I will pretend to look for a file so I can be able to talk to her without problems. Beside I can bring you some clothes." He got up walking toward a near furniture, from a drawer he took out a key. Hurtling it to Jane he advised, "You're lucky, Thomas gave me the key of his apartment while he is traveling through Europe. No one would look for you there. You better disappear for some days so I can investigate on the precinct without interference." He raised his hand gesturing, "wait a second," he went to his bedroom and came back quickly with a two pajamas. He was about to place it on Jane's hands when he stopped. "Mmm I don't think you will wear it tonight, don't you?"

She blushed from toe to head. It was all the answer he needed. His laughter filled the room. "Oh! I want to see Michael's face when he finds out that you replaced him so quickly…" Jane's reply was a hard elbow on his stomach while an upset growl escaped from John's throat. "Ok, I'll behave." Sam said opening his apartment door. Making an overstated reverence, "Ladies first."

When John passed near him he grabbed his arm stopping him while Sam threateningly warned him. "If you hurt her some how wealthy boy, I will kick your wealthy ass. Get it?"

John gazed his eyes and answered. "I bend myself willingly to easy your job if I ever hurt her."

…

The apartment was small but comfortable.

She headed to the bathroom, she really needed a hot shower.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. He couldn't stop thinking of last Sam's words. '_I want to see Michael's face when he finds out that you replaced him so quickly_'

Again Jane's previous life came to bothers him. Who was this guy? This Michael.

While the detective enjoyed the hot water on her skin she peered to the door, she let it open but he didn't come in. Probably he was too tired.

When she went out he entered in the bathroom without mutter a word.

She leaned back on the bed. That was weird. He didn't react as she expected and all what she was wearing was a towel. What was happening to him?

When he finally went out of the bathroom she swallowed. The man looked gorgeous with that towel knotted on his waist. She smiled with anticipation. She inhaled to control herself.

He peered at her, lust and desire crowded together on her gaze. Just a light touch of his finger and she would jump gladly on him. Or was she thinking on Michael? He snorted grabbing a blanked and turned walking to the couch.

"What are you doing?" Her voice reflected her bewilderment.

But she wasn't prepare to hear his angry tone saying, "You can call Michael is you need someone to f… sleep with."

"What are you talking about?" Was he going crazy? And then she remembered Sam's stupid joke. Oh! God! She had completely forgotten her ex. Slowly she sat up on the bed. His reaction shocked her but placed her at the same time. He was jealous.

As she bended her legs enfolding them with her arms he swallowed hard. Damn, the sheet slid exposing her naked back. '_Ok, you are the stupidest man in the world. You chose to get angry when she was waiting for you naked under the sheets._'

He saw her sigh looking for the correct words. "Michael was my boyfriend." He frowned, those words angered him more. "I'm sorry. I should tell you about him but, honestly, I forget him until you named him." His face softened, just a little.

He decided to listen what she had to say so he sat down in the border of the bed. "Ok…"

She shyly smiled, "He hurt me. He hurt me deeply." She remained quiet for some seconds. "We had rented an apartment together." He sensed that what she was going to tell him still perturbed her and it didn't please him at all. "I had bought some things and I took them there… the short story was… he was in beds with another woman, a street whore…"

John's feeling inside his heart was ambiguous. She was telling him how she suffered for another man, but she was suffering and part of him wanted to hold her in his arms and eased her pain with his kisses. When a tear slid on her cheek he couldn't control himself. He sheltered her into his arms. Jane buried her face on his chest and cried.

Something inside him broke. Maybe he had made a mistake from the beginning and all what she felt for him was a physical attraction. Even it could break his heart, he had to ask her. "Do you love him?"

She didn't answer. Pulling back to see his face she just wickedly smiled. It startled him. "Maybe you don't know me as you affirm." He tilted his head showing his confusion. "If I felt something for Michael, as you suggest, I wouldn't be here waiting for you naked under those sheets." She beamed observing how his face changed his expression. "What Mike did to me still hurt, not his absence." Her hand caressed the line of his jaw. "In fact, if I was with him… no matter how strong my feelings for you are, I never had slept with you."

He took her hands and kissed each tip of her fingers. "Then, I'm glad that he was so stupid to cheat on you…"

"Excuse me?"

He flashed her his sexy grin. "He loose, I win."

She couldn't hold her laughter.

She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him inward. "You make me feel too many things, it scares me sometimes."

His hands circled her waist and he whispered on her lips, "What scares me is … to lose you."

Their lips parted and their tongues danced together.

The sheet and towel slipped down.

No word was necessary from now on because their bodies knew the wordless language of their passionate love.

….

An out of tune cricket's symphony vibrated near the detective's ear awaking her at dawn.

Jane was sleeping curled against his warm torso, circled by his powerful arms. That was the best way to wake up in the morning. She moved closer.

On her neck she felt his cadenced breathing lulled her slumber.

There was not place in the world where she preferred to be but surrounded by his arms.

Slowly she opened her eyes. The green irrupted into her senses. She watched astonished the savage arboreal landscape around her. '_Where am I_?' But she could not answer this question.

The last thing she remembered was his sweet and exciting flavor inside her. She couldn't hold a moan recalling how wonderful it felt when they were just one, united by their bodies and souls.

This was an experience she was willingly to experience again, at once.

Her fingertip glided over the length of his arm and his body reacted instantly. She could feel it in the lower part of her back. But it wasn't enough.

Wow, if a thermometer touched any single part of her right now it should explode because her body temperature.

Jane stretched and spun facing him. She beamed watching his peaceful feature dozing. Her mouth widened into a playfully smile. "Let see how long it take me to wake you up" She said loud as her hands slid caressing his skin. She started to spread a line of kisses a long his jaw, he groaned moving his head to allow her fully access.

Her eyes naughtily sparked, "So you like it…" He nodded and she gently nudged his legs apart so she could have better access to that which she sought. "Tel me if you like this…" She spanned his manhood with her hand. He gasped for air, arched his back. "I guess you like it." His breathing started to rush.

She smoothly pushed him and he rolled on his back. "So you won't wake up…" He shook his head complaining when she freed his shaft. "You are a naughty boy…" She sat down on his lower abdomen. Immediately his hand flew to her hips. She wheezed, it was hard for her to remain in control but she wanted to torture him a little more, although she was also torturing herself feeling him ready under her.

When she took his male nipple into her mouth he gasped popping his eyes.

He bend his legs, lifted her just to place her wet womanly where his body was craving for her.

She cried loud as he thrust into her. None of them was able to muter a coherent word while their bodies traveled along the blissfully path of pleasure.

The air filled with their moans and groans.

She arched her back yelling something similar to his name when both reached the pinnacle of the ecstasy at the same time.

Then she collapsed on him, his arms still at her waist, trying to catch their breath.

"You can wake me that way every morning… please."

She beamed, "It's my pleasure…"

Both laughed and he made her roll on her back. His mouth fiercely clamed hers.

She lost the sense of time every time she was in his arms, feeling his skin over hers but when she opened her eyes a hairy face threw her dramatically into the reality.

"John…" she babbled while he kissed her neck, "there was a gorilla watching us…"

He beamed, "you know that Nikima love to spy us when we make love…"

"John…" She couldn't find a word to express her terror, and then he realized that she was calling him John twice.

"Why are you calling me John?" Leaning his palms on the ground he lifted himself looking at her. It couldn't it be. "Jane?" She was gazing at the gorilla that circled them. Tarzan swallowed asking, "Detective Porter?" He went pale when she nodded. His lips grew wide into a smile. "Jane… I don't know how it happens but you are into my dream!"


	6. The end

Both sat up on the bed at the same time and looked each other.

"It can't be true!" She exclaimed, but if he understood what she was talking about, it mean… "It can't be true!

It took him almost a minute to process what happened. His mouth winded into a smile, "You were there…"

"No…" her fingers combed her long hair, "I'm a logic person. Those dreams were a product of my imagination." He saw the desperation on her face. It was a natural gesture on him, he enfolded her form into his arms forcing her to lean her head on his shoulder. "It can't be true." She said as he smiled pulling her closer.

The alarm clock whistled, it was ten o'clock.

She seemed to react. "I'm hungry…" she pushed his arms away, "I need a coffee."

Jane got up and started to walk like a zombie. '_A sensual and naked zombie_' John saw her leave the bedroom. He followed her letting her space, she needed it. He crossed his arms on his chest leaning on the frame of the kitchen door. He observed how she fought against the coffee machine.

She poured the black liquid into two cups and placed them on the table. She sat down and then her eyes got lost into some invisible spot of the air.

He occupied a seat in front of her so he could see how her eyes were filled with tears.

Slowly she sipped the black liquid.

"Are you alright?" He asked wanting kick himself, '_Of course she wasn't right, you damn fool_!' He placed his hand on her arm. She was trembling.

His touch took her out of her trance. She lifted her eyes gazing at him. "It was dreams, only dreams." He frowned hoping that she wouldn't freak out. Looking his expression she shook her head. "You don't understand… It was just dreams, only dreams." Tears began to fall down on her cheeks. "It was logical that I put your face on the man I've been dreaming of…"

Now he was the shocked one. "The man you've dreaming of…"

"I've been dreaming since I was a child." She drank the coffee and kept talking, "I have a powerful imagination." She giggled. "The boy in the hood, the plane crash… it was all my imagination…" She drank the rest of the coffee. "I'm an analytic, logical, rational person. I can distinguish reality from fantasy… at last, up till now, I was able to." She removed her hand under his, took her empty cup and walked to the wash machine. "I can't use it just for a single cup…" She opened the water and frantically washed it.

He stood behind her. Slowly he slipped his hands around her waist leaning his chin on her shoulder. "It doesn't matter if you thought it was a dream… we are together…" He kissed her nape. "There and here… always."

She spun searching his eyes. "You don't understand…" she blushed. "One of the reasons Micheal used to justify his behavior was…" She lowered her eyes unable to look at him, "was…"

His finger lifted her head, "What?"

She inhaled forcing her to hold his stare. "Many times when Michael and I made love… I… I screamed… another name."

He tilted his head frowning. "What name?"

She reddened even more, "Tarzan…"

His reaction shocked her. He fierily attacked her mouth. He could not forbid her to talk about her ex-lover, but he could make her forgot him completely.

He placed his hands on her butt moving her up as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. "How you screamed my name?" He walked at the near wall. "I want you scream my name…" he mutter over her lips.

And she showed him how she cried out his name more than twice…

To travel through the city jumping from roof to roof was unusual situation for the detective. But, even her brain screamed every time the ground disappeared under her feet, it was the best way to move without being detected.

Each room and computer of Greystoke had been checked but nothing was found. Nash had an invisible twenty-four-hour-escort spying him. But up till now, Jane's memory was the only source of information about the illegal Greystoke's activities.

Sam could contact Nicky and explain to her what happened with her sister. He too talked with Kathleen and couldn't help but teased John. She really looked upset knowing her nephew's true civil state.

So few people knew what was happening and Michael Foster wasn't one of them. He only knew that she was married to another man and it disturbed him. Carried by desperation, she allowed her desolation take control of her life and married to the first fool that crossed her way. That was the only explanation he could find for her unusual behavior. He had to talk to her.

Michael was working on his desk when he saw her auburn mane on Connor's office door. Automatically he looked at his watch. It was five past ten, atypical time for Connor to be in his office. Something was going on.

'_She is on Connor's office instead her honey moon in Bahamas_…' He scratched his chin thinking, '_there is only one explanation for this_…' His lips drew a smile, '_She is working undercover_.' His eyes returned to the file he was writing but his mind was fixed at the captain's office door.

Sam's voice came from a corner, he was talking with some tall, long haired blond man.

'_Jane is here_…', Michael was exited. He wouldn't waste the chance to talk to her.

He knew her. It won't be easy but he could convince her and this time he wouldn't let his hormones control him. He had pay too much for a brief, cheap and insignificant carnal satisfaction.

They could start over and made their relationship work out.

He got up and walked to the office door. He could not enter without a logical reason. So he opened the windows trying to calm himself.

He was edgy. '_She is here and I need to talk to her._' His fingers tapped on the windowsill. The street light darkened when she crossed the door. He swallowed and stepped toward her. Suddenly her scream filled the room. He lifted his eyes widened for his desperation.

The room became a chaos. Everybody was running, pointing their guns to the windows. He saw someone jumped outside. But his eyes was fixed on her figure leaned on the floor and on the red spot on her chest.

John watched the black haired man standing near the windows. His eyes were fixed on the office door where Jane and Connor were talking. "It's Michael" Sam murmured confirming his suspicions. The expression on his face, his body language was screaming his thoughts. And it didn't please John at all.

He stepped ahead but Sam's hand stopped him, "just keep in mind that you probably could sleep alone if you do something stupid." John frowned and Sam added, "you're gonna do something stupid, I can see it clearly in your face."

"I only want to make clear to him that she is not his any longer…" then he grinned mischievously, "but you are right, I don't want to sleep alone so I'll behave."

As he walked to the windows his eyes detected a twinkle on one window of the building on the other side of the street. It took him few second to identify the whistling sound above Michael's head. John's eyes followed the noisily trace meeting the shocked eyes of Jane. Something had impacted directly on her chest. Their gazes intertwined as his hands held her stunned shaking body. Her gaze changed from surprise to panic and then oblivion. Everybody screamed around while she fainted into his arms. Slowly John leaned her back on the floor, his eyes filled with tears.

Someone pushed him aside, other screamed calling a doctor. He stepped back. His heart ached seeing her motionless body. He lifted his eyes to the windows, again the twinkle on that windows.

He took his shoes out and climbed the windows grabbing the wire that reached the other side of the street. A feral grunt escaped from his throat as his toes touched the windowpane on the other side.

The window was open and a man was putting inside a suitcase three parts of a weapon. It seemed a long range rifle.

Soundless the ape-man came closer. The man turned his head but it was too late. The first blow knocked him down. Tarzan's arms went up and fell down furiously, there wasn't a place on the man's body where his hands didn't hit. Then his fingers encircled the man's neck. Tarzan turned his bleeding features to face him, he wanted to see his eyes before broke the bones of his neck. But suddenly his nose perceived a well-known scent. His fingers were craving to twist the man's throat but something stopped him. That smell…

He would hunt and find the responsible… But now wasn't the right time to hunt, she needed him by her side.

Snorting John Clayton stood up, loaded the man on his shoulder and grabbed the weapon-suitcase. Thirty seconds later the man and the suitcase dropped over the Connor's desk. Without a word he spun walking to the paramedic group assisting his woman.

He swallowed his pain and kneeled beside her. Sam whispered on the male nurse's ear, "he is her husband, let him go with you." The man nodded.

Leaning on the door frame Michael observed as John took Jane's hand begging her, "Don't leave me…" The ambulance door closed and detective Foster watched it ran down the street.

The sensation of being drowning made her open her eyes and mouth at the same time. She desperately swallowed a puff of air and sat up on the bed, her hands on the chest.

Two comforting and powerful arms surrounded her waist and she mechanically leaned her head over his warm and welcoming chest. His right hand caressed her head while he whispered on her ear how much he loved her. She felt safe into his arms.

The last thing she remembered was the piercing sensation on her chest, the pain burning, but then all came dark.

"Every thing is gonna be alright." His fingers combed her long auburn mane, "You are safe here with me."

She couldn't help but sob. It wasn't the first time that someone shot her but this one took her unaware. There was not part of her body that didn't hurt. She felt so uncomfortably numb. "John!" She finally spoke softly, even to talk was hard for her. "We were so naïves!"

He frowned pulling back to see her face, "Naïves?"

She beamed, "Yeah, naives." She inhaled deeply and kept talking. "I should foresee that something like that could happen. There were two places they could catch us, the court building and the precinct." She made herself comfortable on the bed but she didn't break his embrace. "I was the one who read the file on the Greystoke computer, they can't kill you…"

"Why not? I'm gonna sell the entire company."

"Probably to them…" She replied. "I memorized the names I read into the file because I didn't know when I would read it again, if I ever could see it again." She closed her eyes trying to control the nauseous feeling on her stomach. "What is happing to me?" He tightened his hold around her pushing her closer. "Why am I so tired?"

"You had being shot." He kissed her lightly leaned her back on the mattress, "you should rest."

"Don't leave me alone." She pleaded curling near him.

"Sleep." He softly commanded, "You are safe by my side."

Both closed their eyes together.

Five minutes later he woke up and spun his head to look at Jane. She was resting on her bed surrounded by tubes, needles and machines. Those things kept her alive.

He rose from the armchair he was sleeping and walked to stand beside her. His face was like a stone.

"You will always be safe by my side, no one will hurt you ever again… and the one who hurt you… will pay with his life for it."

She was right; they had been naive, but not any more.

He had transformed his penthouse in a hospital and her room had special shielded glass windows, no bullets could cross it, and a little army of twelve men safeguarded her.

No one would hurt her any more!

Hypothetically he would spend the night inside the house but as she was stable he could begin his hunt. The police had advanced in the investigation but they had not been able to establish a direct connection between the attack and Greystoke.

Mysteriously, that morning, the man, who shot Jane, was found hanging into his cell.

Tarzan couldn't waste more time.

He descended by the vertical wall and jumped to the next building roof. Lifting his hand he ordered to one of the guards closed the entry. No one could scale this wall, even him.

The hunt was on.

Shielded by the darkness of the night the ape-man traveled across the rooftops. He was an undetected shadow searching all over the city. Near the midnight he reached the apartment where the man that shot Jane had been caught.

Two week had lapsed and the smell had faded but his nose identified another one, a female scent, and she had been here less than a day. '_Katherine_…' he sniffed around. He was sure that the woman, who drugged them in the woods, was close.

His bare feet touched the asphalt. '_She believes she is safe._' He walked down the street following her aromatic trace. '_She feels confident_,_'_ he beamed, '_confident_ _enough to make a mistake. She makes it easy for me.' _After almost four hours of searching he arrived to a huge building where her trace ended.

Then he froze. His nose had detected another aroma.

His hands closed into fist as he closed his eyes trying to control his rising fury. '_You need to be calm, tranquil to make him suffer for what he had done_.' He commanded himself. '_Jane was hurt and my life is a hell because of him. Always because of him_!' Slowly Tarzan climbed the wall reaching at an open window.

The loud groans and moans indicated what was happening inside. '_Son of the b_...' John's eyes sparked with malice when he saw an empty champagne bottle on the floor and a bucket full with water on the table near the bed. '_Tarzan knows how cool lovers_.'

They were buried in their physical task to pay attention to the shadow standing near them until the cool water abruptly bathed them. They jumped apart, the man cursed, "What the hell…" but he could not end the phrase. Five fingers circled his neck, lifted him from the bed and dragged his body across the floor. Suddenly the man found himself, naked, hanging outside the windows.

Just a furious fist circling his throat avoided him to fall thirty feet down. He froze grabbing the wrist of his captor. "Don't let me fall!" He begged and John tightened his grip.

"Look at me!" Tarzan demanded, "I want you to see my face when I let you fell…" John smiled seeing him shivered and hearing Katherine sobs inside the room.

"Please don't kill me…"

"Why not?" Tarzan shook his arm terrifying even more his prey, "You hurt her… you almost kill the woman I love. Why would I not kill you?" Tarzan took a step ahead, "Any way, you are already dead!"

His mind considered to broke his neck and end it now, it would be easy to tight his grip around his throat, to twist his hand… John watched his terrified expression. To kill him wasn't enough. No. This man had worked too much to build this intricate pantomime. The young Clayton was not interested to know why. He only wanted to destroy his shield. He definitely wanted to expose him.

John grinned loosing his grip. He looked into the man eyes and asked, "Why?" But he knew that never a true answer would come through his lips.

"My life was in danger."

"In fact…" His eyes naughty sparkled, "your life 'is' in danger…" to remark it he shook his arm, his pray startled.

"John…" his voice trembled, "we are family…" Far from calmed him, those words exasperated him. John's jaw tensed and he stepped ahead, "please… don't kill me. I would do whatever you want."

The young Clayton's finger tightened his grasp. He let his anger spoke. "You forget that I watched you play this game since I was a kid. You're an expert manipulator, but I know you well." Tarzan spun his head looking for the frighten woman that was curled in a corner of the room. "Stand up!" he commanded "There must be a laptop under the bed…" His prey raised his eyes gazing at him. "Put it on the table!" As she hesitated he coldly warned, "Do what I say, your bones are too fragile…" he didn't need to end the phrase. She crawled to the bed, took the computer and placed on the table. "Open it up. I want to see the page I saw in Greystoke." His voice was threatening, authoritarian, a true Clayton. "In a txt file write each one of the passwords I need to access into it, and write the address where I can find it." He snorted, "Remember that your neck is fragile and I could make it painfully for you to die…"

"John! You are not like this…"

Tarzan turned to face the man who had spoken. "I'm a Clayton, as you wanted me to be. I learned it from the best human beast." He faked a smile, "but I am surprised that I don't see any guard around you…" his mocking tone bothered his prey, "Uncle, you become careless!" His finger started to press his windpipe. Richard opened his mouth, desperately fought but couldn't release from his grip. John impassively observed the terror into his eyes while his arms loosened strength and finally the man who he called uncle fainted. Without any gentle gesture John's hand moved to let Richard's motionless body fell to the room floor.

Frantically Kathleen returned to her corner and closed her eyes. A tear ran down her cheek as she cursed silently the entire Clayton family.

…

Sam was on his desk when he heard a tug on the window, he lifted his eyes but couldn't believe what his eyes saw. "Holy return of the living-dead!" His eyes widened watching the naked body of the powerful Richard Clayton at his feet. "What is that" He opened the laptop that John placed on the desk.

"The end of the game…" Tarzan assured.

Epilogue

"The media had a banquet with the Clayton family." Sam assured looking at her partner. "First, Richard Clayton had falsified his own death, the news spread quicker than a fire in a barn, and now they know about his nephew faked his marriage." The black man beamed shaking the newspaper, "The press loved them because it would feed them for months."

She stretched on the bed. "But my real civil stage came back."

Sam smirked, "You talk as you want it back… and the smile on your face denies your asseveration girl." He suddenly laughed seeing her reaction at his words, "I can't believe you're blushing. Damn girl, you are living with him almost three months. You sinners…" the pillow hit his face. "Are you aware, young lady, that you just attack a police officer?" Another pillow hit him again.

"God!" Kathleen Clayton entered through the door, "this is a nightmare." Sam and Jane looked at her. "The building is besieged by the press."

"Don't worry Mrs. Clayton, all they need is another scandal." Jane's partner slightly spoke, "so they would forget the Claytons… by now. You know how the media works."

John's aunt shook her head, Sam Sullivan had one mission, entertain Jane, so she would be deaf to his awful words. "In fact they will have one soon." She sat down on a chair. "There is one more charge against Richard, the murder of the man on his car."

"Kidnap, murder," He pointed to his partner with his index adding, "murder attempt, embezzlement, smuggling and fiscal fraud… I think your brother will end his days into the jail Mrs. Clayton."

"Please, call me Kathleen, Sam." She rubbed her hands on her lap, "unfortunately you're right. Don't get me wrong, he deserves it, but it's hard to accept that your brother is… is a monster." None of them replied, there was nothing to add.

The door opened once again and a huge bouquet of roses appeared. Instantly Kathleen and Sam got up. "Kathleen… would you like to take a cup of coffee?" Sam gallantly offered his arm and without another word they rushed out of the room.

John's blue eyes gazed at the woman on the bed.

He had practiced the speech, what he would say but the words ran away from his brain, it was blank at this moment.

It happened in the other world too, in the dream world, when he was about to ask the same question.

Even he knew her answer, it didn't make it easier. Damn nerves.

He placed the flowers on the table and sat down beside her. Their lips tenderly touched. She wrapped her arm around his neck smiling playfully. "I think we can take a nap…"

His hand caressed her auburn mane. She was still weak but they had the other world, he smirked. "I wonder why you are so eagerly to sleep those past three months…"

She brushed her lips on his neck, "who knows…" He enfolded her pulling her closer. "I missed you."

"I leave just this morning."

"Too much time…"

He sighed closing his eyes. To be close to her was heaven.

He should have prepared a romantic dinner with candles, in a little intimate restaurant but she couldn't freely saunter yet and her diet was restricted too. A dinner with mash potatoes wasn't romantic at all.

Slowly he pulled back, she looked at him. "Why are you nervous?"

It was silly, but he could not control it. He was afraid. He had waited for her all of his life and to be with her was the most important thing in his life. Did her realize it?

He kneeled beside her and took a brown velvet box off his pocket. Her shocked eyes widened meeting his blue gaze, then she smiled wider. "That's why you are nervous." He nodded.

"You are a big wild fool. Do you know that, right?" He opened the box, took the ring and slipped it a long her finger. She didn't need to voice her answer. Her mouth had better things to do with his lips and her hands knew how to speak without words.

She took her time answering and he listened carefully each silent words, each touch. Then he replied in the same way.

The End (fin).


End file.
